Twenty-nine
by shirleypositive72
Summary: Dean's birthday


They all knew this was the last one.

Twenty-nine.

They debated how to do the candles on the cake. Twenty-nine little flames? No. Too much fire. Too much of a reminder that the next candle would never be added. Twenty-nine little swirled-wax, candy-colored lights would be all he'd get.

So they settled for a _2_ and a _9_.

Jo made the cake. Chocolate inside and out. Though, perhaps, a bit saltier than normal. She'd never cried baking a cake before. She hated the tears for showing so much weakness. She hated the tears for broadcasting to everyone who could see how much this was breaking her up inside. But the cake was damn good. She made sure of it.

The tears started afresh when she placed the _2_ and the _9_ in the center. She inhaled deeply and smiled with a salted chocolate smear on her cheek.

Ellen watched her daughter try so hard to be cheerful through the incredible heartache she denied. That girl had loved Dean Winchester the moment he strutted into the Roadhouse and had never stopped. Rejected, forgotten, off limits, it didn't matter to her. Love is a wonderful, evil thing. Ellen looked down, away from Jo's pain, and remembered she was wrapping a present, her fingers holding the bow.. She was wrapping all of the presents. Whiskey from her and Jo. Concert tickets from Sam. A cleaning and tune up kit from Bobby.

Ellen looked up again when Jo walked by to put the cake on the festively decorated table. She looked away from the _2_ and the _9_. Such a small, small number.

Bobby turned away from the cake on the table. He went back to hanging the streamers because that was his damn job. The rest of these idgits could cry and be sad if they wanted to, but, by God, he was going to celebrate. It was a party, wasn't it? That's what you do. Leave behind the bad parts and get on with the next thing. The next thing is streamers. Hang the streamers so that boy could feel important and loved. Before he left them. Left them at twenty-nine.

Bobby sighed. He couldn't protect him. He'd failed. The _2 _and the _9_ mocked him from their cheery perch on the cake.

Sam didn't cry. He didn't hurry around in a frenzy. He sat. He sat and he looked at that cake. At those presents. At the bright streamers all around Bobby's library and kitchen. He knew it wasn't enough. Not enough to make up for all the birthdays on the road when managed nothing more than a mumbled _happy birthday_ to his brother. Sure, when they were kids he'd asked his dad to buy something special for Dean. A hot rod magazine, a new jacket those years it was really cold. An extra slice of pie at whatever diner they were eating dinner.

Sam lifted one corner of his hard mouth and went into the kitchen to get one more thing. The best he could do. A whole pie for his brother. Fresh and hot out of the oven. Jo made the pie, too. But there would be no _2_ or _9_ on this.

He arrived. They yelled surprise with watery, falsely cheerful voices. He jumped back, instantly at the ready. They all laughed for real. Should have anticipated that.

Dean looked around the room and held back tears with a grin. After the urge to fight when they'd first shouted at him, he took just a moment to think through what they'd said. Happy birthday. Usually a day only Sam halfway remembered. They'd thrown him a damn party. He's sure he'd had birthday parties. His mother was the type to have gone all out. Balloons, bouncy house, donkey rides. Whole nine, he's sure. He had even the vague edges of a memory of the day he turned four. And Dad. Well, in the early days, Dad tried to find small ways to mark the day. Then it just became unimportant.

But this. Streamers, cake, gifts, and pie. Bobby and Ellen fussed over him. Jo, who could have been so much more if they'd been given half a damn chance, tried so hard to be brave with a beaming smile on her beautiful face. Sam. Always Sam. All of them together. His family. He saw the _2_ and the _9_. Not bad for a Hunter, he thought.

It was the best birthday of his life.

**AN: I don't own Supernatural, but I do wish Dean Winchester a happy 36th birthday. Be kind and leave a review. They can be Dean's birthday presents.**


End file.
